I was gonna wait until I got to 100 reviews, but… Haha! Just kidding! I would never do that! I'm just ecstatic that people even read this story! But really, a gracious thank you to all of you for reading! (And also a gift of redundancy. A gracious thank you? I just really wanted to drive the meaning home, I guess! :P)
Chapter 11: Clarity
…kiss me…
The words seemed to trail out longer in sound than what should have been possible. It could have been that James was replaying them over and over within his mind, but he swore he could hear them bounding around the room as well, wrapping them both in an eerie sibilance. It could just be the quiet simmering of the cauldron hissing out just to Severus left, but then again… maybe the walls were echoing the words…
He saw Severus close his eyes, for what purpose James could not discern. He did notice how utterly unsettled the other seemed, and rather than dissuade him, it merely incited him further.
"Come now… You shouldn't look so affronted," James started up again quietly. Severus turned his head, as if unwilling to acknowledge him, but this moment, at least for James, felt… pivotal. And he didn't want to be ignored by the other boy. Not any more. "Think of it as an experiment," he offered somewhat jokingly—anything to alleviate the tension in the room—but then Severus whipped his head up.
"An experiment?" he repeated contemptuously, and James finally noticed the very tight grip the Slytherin had on his quill. That meant that the boy was either rather angry—and Merlin wouldn't that just be a shock?—or…quite possibly… just maybe… he was feeling… nervous.
"Yeah… an experiment. You like those well enough, don't you?" James asked as he casually walked over to the Slytherin's work table. Severus watched him intently, and James was not so oblivious that he didn't notice the way the boy tensed further with each step that brought them closer together.
"Do you even know what you're talking about?" Severus asked harshly as James came before the table.
"Even if I did, I'm sure you'd just explain it to me anyway," he smiled. Severus ignored this last comment as he slipped into a tirade.
"An experiment is where you test a hypothesis- to verify a believed truth. There are variables, Potter—ones that are intentionally changed to compare against a standard, and experiments have to be repeated to ensure unvaried results," he didn't so much explain as berate him. "Tell me, what are we experimenting here exactly?" he asked.
"I think you know what end results I'm looking for," James said evenly as he picked up a brass trinket. It reminded him of a very small wood rasp, but judging by the teeth of the tool, it was a scaler.
"No, I want to hear explicitly what truth it is you want to confirm," he said, tone low. James sighed.
"Maybe we're looking for different results here—But I know what I want to know, and I guess I'm just hoping that… maybe you're just a bit curious yourself."
"…about what?" the boy said slowly.
James shrugged his shoulders as he turned the scaler in his hand. "To see if you'll feel it again, too."
"Feel. What. Potter?" he punctuated, and from the corner of his eye, James saw the slight quiver in the boy's hands. He slowly looked up to Severus.
"What I felt," he began quietly, his voice barely above that of a whisper, "… when we…" But he trailed, faltering once again. It was one thing for James to elude to… that particular event, but to out right say it? No. So James swallowed the words down nervously. Severus watched him, and there the two of them stood for what seemed like agonizing hours though could surely not have been more than a minute. James' skin was growing warmer the longer Severus stared at him and said nothing until it was all he could do to not wipe the sweat from his neck and brow.
"As I said, Potter—experiments require repeated trials," Severus said at last, bowing his head down as if studying his work and so that James could no longer see his face properly. But what the Slytherin had just said—Merlin, James could almost laugh from it! If that was Severus' concern—and when it was put to James so weakly—then perhaps this exchange wasn't going to be as daunting as he had anticipated. And because he couldn't quite conceal his relief, he smiled gently.
He laid the trinket down with a muffled thump. "Well… if that's what it takes," he replied, a bit breathlessly as he then glided his fingers atop the surface of the desks until Severus' own hand was right before his own. "So Severus…" he began, voice lowering and deepening, and he took a breath, ready to say those resounding two words again when Severus suddenly spoke up.
"What I don't understand… is why you've been acting… differently the last couple of days," the other admitted, and James supposed it was a fair enough point to make, even though he wished the moment for talking was over with.
And he could lie and say that the intrigue of their recent interactions was enough for him to pursue this further (it wouldn't even be that surprising of a response for one believed to be as wanton as he), but truthfully? Truthfully… what could he say? That he had a sneaking suspicion that some lurking darkness had infested him? That he was perhaps cursed? That what he should really be doing was seeking a way to rectify this cataclysm? Put everything back to how it used to be—like in the perfect days of yore?
But…
…but these occurrences… the times when he and Severus were in the same room, were speaking to one another, or were very close together… he never thought about any of it. Not really. Because he didn't want to.
He wanted what he wanted… when he wanted it.
The oddity of it all was that it was Severus that was the object of this… want.
And if it was any other person- any other person… he wouldn't have analyzed a thing— wouldn't have had to. He didn't with his mates, he didn't with his short-lived crushes, and he never once questioned why Lily was so important to him. Should he have to with Severus? Why? Because their animosity for one another made this all the more inconceivable and illogical? Well, that may be so… but he couldn't possibly waste another moment second guessing this because…
Because…
…Severus had reacted to him as well… had been more than receptive even. And the Slytherin could not be given any time to debate the matter. Not a single second more. Because if he did—if he was given the moment's reprieve to reflect upon all of this… then that'd be it. It would all end— the chance for James to experience what he wanted to so desperately again and the chance for him to give this happenstance a purpose… a reason. It's what Severus would do after all, and his conniving brain had enough within it to twist any sort of feeble protest into a full-blown, full-bodied refutation.
And he make it to where James could not counter—would not be given the chance to.
And now was certainly not the time for him to question the Slytherin. Because really, truly, honestly… it was Severus' own consent and acceptance of these exchanges that were the most baffling. But James didn't want to scare the other. Questioning the boy would bring up the defenses faster than anything else, and Merlin, he did not want that.
So what could he say?
Eventually, he just shrugged his shoulders, hunching over the table slightly.
"Truthfully?" he began quietly. "Well, you know—it's just that all of this has been rather… strange," and he rapt his fingers across the table nervously. "And I guess I thought that if I approached all of this… differently, it wouldn't seem so…" but what was the right word to finish on?
"Bizarre?" came Severus, and James made a noncommittal snort of laughter. Yes Bizarre, but also…
"Intense."
At that, Severus arched one elegant brow, and James could curse him for his seeming composure at a time like this. Did all Slytherins take private lessons on it or something? Was he the only one perspiring here?
"Intense…" Severus repeated, looking downwards, an expression that seemed suddenly uncharacteristic. James nodded though he knew the other was not watching him just then. Miraculously, James had not been asked to leave— had not been forced to either. This was what he perceived to be one of those opportunistic moments. And he would take it.
"So… how about… as part of the changed variables you were going on about—we just… for this moment—for this first trial— we pretend that I'm not me… and you're not you," he offered quietly as Severus continued to stare down at the table before him.
"Pretend?" the other repeated, and James felt that at the moment all Severus was trying to do was delay this impending disaster the Gryffindor seemed so intent on forcing upon them both by hollowly echoing his own words back at him. James would have none of it.
"For this one instance, Severus, pretend… and just kiss me."
"No." And Severus' reply was so unwavering and so unbearably stern that James did freeze in his crawling advance. And he could have turned around, could have swallowed his burning pride down like bile and respected Severus' protest, but when was the Gryffindor anything but unrelenting? And besides, if he had turned to cowardice after so bold a claim then he'd miss what happened next.
The Slytherin's face was unadorned with any expression that could be decipherable to James, but what did it matter? What did it matter when the next two words the Slytherin uttered were so crystalline as to shatter all of James' uncertainties?
"Kiss me."
Bloody fuck… James thought as he closed his eyes, resisting the urge to grapple his chest where surely his very ribcage was about to lance through his skin.
Severus' voice had always that strange quality to it—that ability to sound louder than it was or really the ability to be heard when it really shouldn't have been. James had only witnessed that same talent of the Headmaster, who with a mere whisper could command a whole clamorous dining hall. And though Severus was but mere steps away, those two staccato syllables had been hushed out so quietly passed two seemingly unmoving lips… almost as if unwilling to be heard…
…but James had.
He did hear those two words, unstressed and simply… Might he even think beckoningly?
Severus continued to stand there as if he had not just uttered something so tantamount as to upheave all that James knew to be true of the Slytherin.
And he could be mocking him— could be merely throwing James' own words back at him like he had been—but…
...but…
Before Severus could undo what he said, James lunged forward and grabbed the Slytherin by the sides of his face, his fingers burrowing into the boy's hair, locking him in place. His focus grew hazy, and he brushed his right thumb against Severus' bottom lip. He leaned in and then hesitated for just a second more as the Slytherin's eyes widened.
"Ha…" he breathed, smiling softly. "You flinched." Severus made a small humph as James ran his forefinger down the boy's mouth.
"For the love of Morgan… Just stop talking, Potter. For once," he snarled quietly, and James smiled all the more.
"Whatever you say, Severus," and he moved in until his lips finally found those of Severus'.
And it was amazing how quickly he reacted.
His skin tingled with warmth. It started in his chest until it rushed to every arm, leg, finger—his face—everywhere! Sure it probably stemmed from the sweltering heat of the cauldron nearby, but where was the poeticism in that? He much rather believe it was because this act of mutual intimacy ignited a very fire within his veins. He smiled against Severus. Yeah… he liked that idea much better.
Then Severus hands came up to grip the sides of James' wrists, and he made a sound in the back of his throat that made the Gryffindor panic. He wondered then if he was doing this right. The last time was so spontaneous that he never once had any semblance of coherent thought. But now? Everything he had done to get himself to this point had been speculated upon. And sure his instincts were there, rumbling deep within him—coaxing him on from the fringes of his thoughts—telling him with a quiet ferocity to simply claim for himself what he so thoroughly wanted to, but…
…he was much too aware of the other at the moment—of the boy's presence—his solidity—of his very real and physical form under his touch.
And James didn't want to look like an idiot.
He scrambled through his memories, conjuring up images of some of the more… indecent displays of affection he had witness from some of the older years, and tried to mime them.
He moved his mouth, opened it a little, and felt Severus do the same. He breathed in languidly, felt the other exhale, and then he stifled the moan that was grumbling up from within his depths. And then he sensed those undulating forces inside him swirl reason with lust until it was one very compulsive guide—until he accepted it for what it was so that it became his one intention.
He shifted as close as he could while the table still divided them until he felt that pleasant warmth within him flare into a frustration that such an impetuous object dare separate them. He broke away. Severus looked surprised for only a second until he seemed to realize that James' only intent was not to further himself from the other but to press themselves together all the closer. He came round the obstacle fast and upon reaching the other at last, he kissed him again and guided him back with his lips and the slight force of his body until Severus could go no further— until James felt his own hands, one grasping the small of Severus' back, the other wriggling its way to the back of the boy's head, grazing up against the grainy stone walls.
Then everything began to tighten.
His grip on the boy—the fingers within Severus' hair—the space between their ever compressing forms—the air between them—his chest…
—the muscles in his lower belly…
Suddenly Severus leaned away, his lips swollen, and he focused upon James though his eyes seemed clouded over.
"You've got to be kidding me, Potter," he said, his voice deep and somewhat rasping, and his eyes trailed down James' torso and just a bit lower still. It took James an awfully (and awkwardly) long time to sift through his lust and decipher the boy's meaning, and then he smirked realizing just what Severus was referring to. He should probably be embarrassed at how hard he was (and how quickly it had happened), but he felt more than just his own.
"You can lecture me all you want, Severus," he said, shifting slightly and nuzzling the other's cheek with the tip of his nose and lips, "…when your own isn't pressing into my thigh," he finished, sighing out most lasciviously into the other's ear. Severus darkened to a lovely shade of red, and James had to make a mental note to inspire such expressions in the other more often. That Severus could even make such a face! Bloody fucking wonders of all wonders!
He moved against the other as they continued to kiss. The need for this to go further was overwhelmingly difficult to withstand, and with each tentative shift he made against Severus, he felt that need become more frenzied. He brushed his tongue along Severus upper lip and then attempted to dart it inside the other's mouth when Severus suddenly turned his head.
"What?" James panted.
"That feels too weird," he said evenly.
"Come on, it's how you're suppose to kiss at a time like this," James said, moving his mouth along the boy's jaw line.
"Because you would know," Severus persisted irritatingly.
"It's how everyone else does it," James quipped, but the stern look on Severus face deflated any further arguing. "Dammit, Severus," and he captured the boy's mouth again. Severus wouldn't be allowed to protest further either.
As they continued to kiss, their lips moving seamlessly against one another's, James couldn't help but feel the gentle pitter-patter of his heart. This act… this here… the intermingling and the closeness of them both was something… auspicious, he felt. Or at least, he wanted to believe it was. The first time had happened because chaos had overruled sensibility, which he internally would admit he was very happy about. But the second time? This time? What could it be but… hopeful?
For how could Severus refuse him ever again?
Not when it was he that had sparked this exchange.
Feeling something he hadn't since the last time he had touched this boy… a sense of utter completion, of rightness, James sighed contentedly, his breath mingling with the warmth of Severus' own. He unwound his fingers that were buried in the boy's hair and ghosted them across his jaw and gently down across his neck. He felt the slight protrusion of his collarbone and ran his middle finger laterally along it until he curved them around the boy's shoulder. He then cascaded his fingers down Severus' arm until he found the Slytherin's hand viciously gripping the hem of James' jumper. And then he took that hand and those long, thin fingers within his own and brought them up to the sides of his face. He moved the boy's finger tips along his cheek and relished at its subtle warmth.
And then Severus' hand needed no guidance. They explored the sides of James' visage until they came to the base of his skull and combed through his hair. And why that excited James as much as it did, he'll never know. But the sensation was simply riveting.
Then James shifted his grip around the boy's hips until his hands crawled under the boy's jumper and undershirt where his fingers climbed higher and higher up the notches of the boy's spine, and he wondered why he liked that feeling so much, too. He ran them along the boy's shifting shoulder blades, along his tautening muscles, and back down along the curve of his back.
And all the while, the languid motion of their lips hiccupped every now and again whenever James would rock too forcibly against the other so that each of them hitched in breath.
…but the pressure was building.
And with the pressure so was the need, and James wanted those pesky barriers, the clothes that separated them, to disappear. And just as he resurfaced his hands to undo the first obstruction, outside the door came a very startling, and very clamorous, crashing noise.
Both of them jolted, breaking away hastily before looking to the door reflexively.
"Shit," James uttered, his frenzied heart reacting to now both Severus and the sudden explosion of sound while the Slytherin then scrambled out from behind him. The boy pulled his wand out to perform a cleaning spell as he quickly tidied up his things. It took James a second longer to react, completely stunned that of all times to be neat, Severus chose now, but then he made for the other and pushed him towards the door where he then cautiously opened it. It made a slight creaking noise as he tentatively peeked out from behind it. No one was there, but they heard another resounding crash down the hall and weren't about to stick around longer. James knew it had to be Peeves up to know good, and that personally, he couldn't care less about one troublesome Poltergeist, but wherever Peeves was mucking about, Filch was sure to follow.
They made a mad dash for it. They bolted down the hall, but before they reached the end of the corridor, Severus suddenly turned back. James watched as the other ran up to his makeshift potion lab to put a locking spell on the door. James rolled his eyes, doubled-back himself, latched onto the boy's arm, and all but dragged him along. Personally, he thought that there was no good way of concealing a potions labs from the professors—if they were going to find it, they'd get in locked door or not. Then again, maybe Severus did it to deter the students that used the abandoned halls for… far less productive activities than the one Severus used it for—productive defined by the Slytherin, of course. Still though… that Severus was protecting it made James smile.
"I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own," Severus chided after they had reached a safe distance from Peeves. James kept vigil for the Argus-eyed caretaker as the two of them bounded down the steps.
"I know… this is just a cheap exploit," he grinned back at him. Severus scoffed, but James smiled all the more because the boy did not make any attempt to take his hand back. He led him all the way down to the entry hall, and he was surprised that they had come across no one. He stopped before the stairs leading down to the dungeons where he then felt Severus' hand leave his own. But as the Slytherin left for his dorm, James reacted and pulled him back. Maybe it was because he didn't like seeing the other walk away just then. Maybe it was because it reminded him of the last time Severus just walked away without a word. When Severus finally turned around, James, guided by another one of those compulsive voices, leaned forward with every intention of imparting the other with a kiss when Severus, to James' slight bitterness, turned his head.
"What are you doing?" he asked quizzically. The genuine confusion on the Slytherin's face actually alleviated the instinctive hurt that James had felt just a second ago.
"Severus, I know we're both a little inexperienced in these matters, but I thought you'd at least know that was a pretty typical and expected gesture when people part ways sometimes," he said amusedly.
"Ridiculous," he contested affectedly, and James suppressed his laugh, opting for a grin instead.
"If you say so," he smiled. Severus almost looked as though he would smile, too, but James knew he wouldn't. The Slytherin hovered there a second more, and James wondered then if he was expecting James to try and kiss him again. Of course, he would very much like to oblige, but before he could decide if that's what the Slytherin was waiting for, the boy spoke.
"What do you think will happen tomorrow?"
And James furrowed his brows. Tomorrow? Oh… tomorrow. Where everyone returns, he means… Where he supposes everything will return to how it was… Merlin… how one little statement like that could fill the Gryffindor with such surging hope. Before Severus could react, James leaned down and kissed him on the temple.
"What are you talking about? I'll torment you relentlessly. It's all I'm good for, right?" he grinned, and Severus snorted after a bout of silence.
"Please tell me you'll at least stop following me around," he asked blandly as he adjusted his robes. James stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders.
"Why not… you're an absolute bore anyway," he said, grinning for good measure. Severus quirked a brow but said nothing more, and then both boys turned away from one another and returned to their respected dorms.
And as James turned his back to Severus, just as Severus had done to him, both of them walking in the opposite direction at the same, steady, slow pace, James was content. Maybe he wasn't turning his back to darkness, and maybe a perfect day wasn't waiting ahead, but he didn't care. Maybe that made him heedless, reckless… self-destructive, but he was content to know that he wasn't an incomplete person.
For so long, he had pretended to be satisfied with everything. Perhaps that festered the darkness, who could say, really? It wasn't as if he was unhappy. He had his mates Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Peter (though he was mostly at odds with them at the moment). He had those that admired him, and that, in turn, drove him to be the best that he could be (or what he thought he could be). His teachers respected him (some more than others). He had Quidditch that, if ever he needed an escape for the day, for an hour, his broom and the sky were always waiting for him.
But what he didn't have— what he couldn't understand— was never having. His mates, those admirers, the broom, the sky— all were there for him at any moment. Any moment that caught his fancy, he could call upon any of them. They were never not going to be there.
Severus was different. He was always wanting— always seeking. James never realized until he had become so spun by Severus just how much he had always paid attention to the other. He was always looking out for Severus— seeking out the boy who was always seeking everything James had. Inwardly, buried beneath his superficial veneer of youth and immaturity, James knew that Severus was the one person he could have complete power over.
Severus, despite how he spat James' name— despite how he threatened him with vicious curses was always wishing, deep down, buried beneath his own superficial veneer of self-praise, that he could have all that James had.
That… was power.
That— that singular, buried knowledge vested in James the greatest sense of worth. Instead of admitting to that knowledge, though, he sought Severus out personally. To taunt him, to ridicule him. He told himself it was because Severus was pathetic. James' hadn't been given such happiness freely. He had to earn them. He had to work hard for his parents' praises. He had to garner friends by giving them candies when they were younger, letting them have rides on all his new brooms, sharing with them the luxuries of his heritage. He had to study hard (or pretend to in some cases) to earn the respect of his teachers. He had to practice on his broom so that he could earn a rightful spot of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Who was Severus to look at James as if he deserved none of it? That it all came too freely for him, and that James didn't appreciate any of it?
So he sought Severus out— to taunt him, to ridicule him, to show him that it was only because Severus was comfortable with the shitty life he had been dealt that his life was just that… shitty.
But deep down, it wasn't why. It was because he knew Severus admired him. And because, no matter what James told himself, he had been given a privileged life where making friends, excelling in academics, earning the respect of his parents and teachers was all so easy. And he really never learned to appreciate any of them. Because he would always have them. They would always be there for his beck and call.
Secretly knowing all that and never allowing himself to admit any of it was what, James was certain now, allowed the darkness to grow within him. He had done it to himself. It was years of guilt and lies and petty self-exaltation that provoked the gloom within.
Now it was unleashing its full, uncontained wrath upon him.
Instead of fighting it, however, James allowed it to sweep over and take him completely until he could no longer distinguish the parts of himself that once were and now are.
That made him complete, at last.
How much deeper could the darkness run now that it was allowed to empower itself within him? And what could run deeper than his gratefulness to Severus for freeing him, not from obscurity, but from a pseudo contentment?
So he turned his back to Severus, walked away with his slow, steady steps knowing that he different and that made any promise of perfect days less brilliant and hunted.
The following morning, James trudged into the Dining Hall and sat down at his table. The first thing he noted upon walking into the room was that Severus was not there. Not completely unusual; Severus was an early riser (even if James did make a special point of getting up at the ungodly hour as well), but maybe for once… the Slytherin slept in. James had certainly felt like doing so; he couldn't remember the last time he had slept so deeply. After returning several groggy yawns of greetings from his fellow Gryffindors, he wolfed down his breakfast quickly before wiping his mouth and standing to leave. Being forced up so early only to be disappointed by the lack of a certain Slytherin's presence was something James thought justified a good session of annoying the other.
He stood to leave and nonchalantly made to pass beyond the Great Hall when the main doors erupted open and a deluge of students, all red-faced and wrapped in cloaks galore, came flooding in around him. James smiled broadly as he spotted two of his fellow marauders trailing behind the excitable crowd streaming passed him.
"Oy! Remus!" he cried, turning on his heel and making his way through the bustling crowd. Remus smiled broadly as he caught his eye. When they reached one another, they clasped hands real quick, as only proper mature wizards like themselves did, and then James scooped Remus up in an embrace.
"Alright! Alright!" Remus protested, shoving James away form him. That's right. James always did somehow manage to forget how Remus hated the overplays. Oh well. Just who did Remus think he was dealing with here?
"Good ol' Moony! Having my affection spurned so early in the morning really brightens up the rest of the day," he laughed. Remus brushed him off as he walked passed him towards the moving staircase. James sidled up to Peter and clapped him thrice on the back. Peter gave a hesitant smile, which James didn't understand but wasn't too concerned with as he followed behind Moony.
"Please, James… after a long trip, your affectedness really dampers my day," he said tiredly. James audibly gasped behind him.
"Remus, I swear! If it wasn't outlawed, it be to Filch's lair with you!" he warned. Then he almost collided into his wearied mate as Remus stopped dead in his tracks.
"Oh… I'm too tired to object," Remus said, suddenly swinging around and plopping down the stairs dejectedly, but James laughed and caught him, turning him around and shoving him back upstairs.
"Hold it… even Filch need his holiday. After all, he had me to contend with all break," he grinned mischievously. Remus snorted softly.
"I dunno, James, seems to me this castle is still rather in tact. Couldn't have done much then," he said haughtily, and because Remus never sounded so snobbish, James laughed some more. Along the way, they slipped into an effortless conversation about what the two did over their holiday breaks. Remus, surprisingly, traveled abroad with his family, something the Lupins never did for fear of their son's condition, while Peter stayed home and didn't really do much of anything. Peter seemed rather taciturn, but it wasn't unusual for the lad to feel overwhelmed by the energetic personalities of James and Remus (and Sirius)… Well mainly James just then. James was about to tell the others that his own holiday break had been… interesting (he'd of course spare them the details) when as they crossed the floor to the base of the tower steps, he heard his name called.
He was surprised to find that it was still instinctual for him to react to the voice so seamlessly.
He turned around, Remus shaking his head and smiling softly while ushering Peter up the remaining steps, and there she was again.
Lily Evans.
And damn if James didn't feel that familiar tug at the base of his heart.
"Hullo, Potter," she smiled hesitantly as she stepped up to him. He closed his eyes and wielded himself to not react so obviously.
"Hullo, Lily," and he could have addressed her by her last name, but 'Lily' had slipped so reflexively forth from his tongue. She smiled tentatively, and he felt himself mirror her. She then shook her head and smiled more brightly, as if trying to shake something off.
"I know it's days late and all, but I got you something," she then dug through the bag strapped around her shoulder until she pulled out a very small package. "It's isn't anything much, and no doubt you'll only berate me for being 'such a girl,' but I wanted to give this to you." She said all this without ever meeting his eyes as she stretched out both hands grasping the package out to him. He went to greet it with his own and felt her smooth skin as he retrieved the gift.
He looked at her for a second more, questioning her silently if this really was alright before she smiled fondly at him. He gently tore the wrapping away to reveal a small glass case, and inside the glass case was a broken toy snitch, the ones modeled after the real things but were only enchanted to hover a second or so in the air after tossing.
"I don't get it," he admitted, turning the case over as if some message would be scripted on the bottom so as to explain instead. Lily laughed that very innocent giggle which only confused James further.
"I figured you wouldn't," and she stepped up to him until she was very, very close. She touched the case and turned it back over within James hands so that their fingers flitted around and against one another, smiling as she did. And from James' taller stance he could see just how long those sun-kissed eyelashes of hers really were. "You threw this at my head in our first year, James," she said. "Remember?" And she looked up at him, those green and vivid eyes very fixed upon him. Then his heart gave a slight tremble. Yes... he did remember this particular snitch.
"Uh, yeah... I remember," he smiled. "I only did it because you called me a talentless knob-head who liked to eat his own bogies."
"But first you called me a dunderhead all because I was muggle-born," Lily quipped. James winced at that. Gods, had he always been such an arse?
"But I wasn't really aiming for you," he added quickly- and it was true enough- and Lily smiled.
"Yeah, I figured that afterwards."
"Why'd you keep it?" he asked, and she looked down at the object in his hands, and it dawned on him that Lily had been holding onto this object for a really long time. She shrugged her tiny shoulders.
"I felt bad for what I said. I was going to try and fix it and give it back to you, but as you can see… I couldn't. And then every time I tried to talk to you again—" Yeah, James knew what she was going to say next.
"—I was a right git," he said for her, and she laughed while nodding her.
"Pretty much… Anyways, Happy Christmas, James," she said. She smiled up at him so warmly that his only response was to look away and swallow.
"I… I didn't get you anything," he admitted.
"That's alright…" she said quietly, and James looked at her again. And before he could comprehend what she was doing, she raised up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to the corners of his briefly. When she pulled back her complexion almost matched the intensity of her hair. "See you around, Potter." And she dashed up the steps behind him.
And James did not turn around.
He did not follow her with eyes.
He stared at the broken, encased snitch within his hands as the very breath rushed out from him in a shaking escape.
And then he gripped the memento all the tighter because it was all too clear to him.
He loved Lily—Oh yes, he loved her…
But…
...but…
Truth was, he had a different memory of this snitch as well. For at the time, when Lily had called him some stupid name, there was a certain small, dark figure off in the periphery. And that particular small, dark figure that clung to shadows and away from others was the very boy that James had swore to hate from day one. And what did that boy in the periphery do that day? Why he had laughed at James. Had laughed at him when Lily, the girl with such intense hair and opinions, had called him that very stupid name.
Even then James very much reacted to the boy.
And so he had thrown the snitch, missing Lily completely… and because James wasn't as malicious as that small, dark figure believed, he had missed the boy, too.
How strange that this little memento would make its way back to him… How strange it was that it was Lily who have given it to him. And as James now gripped the case, his transparent reflection staring back at him, it was all so clear.
It was Severus he wanted.
And fuck, how he wanted him.
"You know... if this is going to become a nightly routine of yours, Potter, I'm going to have adjust my day," Severus spoke from across his re-purposed classroom as soon as James shut the door behind him. James laughed quietly as he came to sit across from the Slytherin.
"I didn't get a chance to ask you yesterday… What do you think this is?" he voiced softly. James had done his part, had answered the other boy's questions, and now he wanted the same in turn. Severus watched him with what James could only surmise was slight interest and marginal confusion.
"You're asking that now?" he scoffed.
"Come on," he said, smiling thinly and standing up. "It's only fair. And I am asking seriously."
"What else could this be, Potter—" he smirked dangerously as James waited on tenterhooks for the answer, "—but madness?"
And the answer resounded inside James until he no longer cared what the answer was or what his question had even been to begin with.
"Whatever—that's good enough for me," he replied short of breath, and he closed the distance between them so that he could finish where he had left off the night prior. He didn't even care if Filch came upon them, he would have Severus.
Fuck, how he wanted him.
A/N: Okay so it's not really a note so much as a rant, but I would just like to say... I hope people continue to write fanfics and draw their fanart or whatever it is to show some Potter-verse love! I'm only saying this, of course, because of the recent cinematic conclusion of HP. It was quite something to go watch it because... it is, once again, the end of all things (for the story at least). ^^;; Most everyone that has read HP has been with it for over a decade, and I would just like to add that... well... that's pretty incredible. I also want to thank JK Rowling for writing it because it has certainly been a wondrous journey for myself reading them all. Also, also... thank you to everyone for writing their own takes on it because it's also infinitely fun to partake in others' love for it as well.
Really, truly... I do love it all!